


One Night in Cairo

by missbecky



Category: Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy (1999)
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamunaptra is buried, but not forgotten. Rick is falling in love. Against Ardeth Bay's better judgment, Evelyn becomes curator of the Museum of Antiquities. And Jonathan, well, Jonathan sets it all in motion. On one fateful night in Cairo, our heroes come together, and bonds are formed for life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in Cairo

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in 2001 and posted to ff.net. The inspiration came from director Stephen Sommers' commentary on The Mummy Returns. He said that in TMR, all the relationships are stronger and "more intertwined." Well it seemed to me that nine years of separation between all of our heroes wouldn't exactly strengthen a friendship. So this was my take on why the O'Connells and Ardeth are so close in the second movie.

Rick climbed the stairs to his hotel room two at a time, a bit unsteady on his feet, humming a scrap of nonsense doggerel that had been stuck in his head for most of the day. He was aware that he was grinning like a lunatic, but could not make himself stop. He did not want to stop. In fact, he could see no reason to ever stop smiling.

At the ripe old age of twenty-five, Rick O'Connell was in love.

He thrust his key at the lock and missed. Undaunted, he tried again, this time succeeding. With a flourish, he unlocked the door and flung it open. It flew back, hit the wall and rebounded. He elbowed it out of the way and strolled into the room. He tossed his key toward the bedside table; it fell short by several feet and bounced on the floor. Rick just looked at it and grinned.

He swung the door shut, sauntered over to the fallen key and picked it up. As his hand closed over it, his smile curdled and froze. A quiver ran through him, and his legs gave way. He sat down on the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit," he breathed. "I'm in love."

****

It defied all logic, of course. He wasn't supposed to fall in love. He was supposed to go through life and experience adventure and excitement, and women didn't go for those things, he had found. They preferred a quieter life, with elegant dinners and nice dresses. They painted watercolors and played the piano and crooked their little fingers when they drank tea and were generally very boring. They did not like getting sand in their hair, and they did not think there was anything worthwhile to be found in books, and they most certainly did not think camels were adorable.

Except for Evelyn Carnahan.

He had never met anyone like her. Brave and strong, she was charmingly stubborn and fiercely intelligent. She was loyal to her brother and to anyone she let get close to her, such as himself. She had an endearing innocence about her, one that was slightly misleading, for he suspected she knew more about life than she sometimes let on. But that knowledge came mostly from books, and not real experience, and in that respect, she was a bit sheltered.

She had saved his life, several times. He was not deluded enough to think she had saved him on the gallows only out of sheer kindness; nonetheless, her desire for the Book at Hamunaptra had only been a part of it. She was a good person, generous and compassionate, and she had no doubt been moved to save him just so he might not die such a horrible death. That he could lead her to Hamunaptra had only been incidental.

And dear God, she was beautiful. He had never seen a woman as amazing as she was. Even in the prison courtyard, her hair pulled back, her body imprisoned by a severe blouse and skirt, she had looked incredible. Later, in the black Arab gown, she had nearly been his undoing, and when those dark, kohl-lined eyes had looked at him over that veil, his heart had almost stopped.

Oh yeah. He had it bad, all right.

They had been in Cairo for three weeks now. The return journey from Hamunaptra had taken three days, at the end of which they had stumbled into the city, ludicrously grateful for the noise and chaos and stench. After the horrors of the desert and the City of the Dead, Cairo was a relative paradise.

That attitude had lasted all of six hours. He figured that wasn't too bad, all things considered.

The weeks had been busy ones. Evelyn had thrown herself into work at the Museum of Antiquities, and the city officials seemed content to let her. No one had officially named her as the curator, but the lack of proper sanction did not bother her. She went calmly about the process of running the library and museum, and the other employees did not interfere. They knew her well and took orders from her without any fuss, and things ran rather smoothly.

Surprisingly enough, the museum had not fared too badly in the mob attack. The people had been united under Imhotep's command and entered the museum with only one purpose – to find Evelyn and Daniels and kill the others. They had not been motivated by greed or a base need for violence. When they had not been able to obey their orders, they had not turned to looting and destruction, as others might have. Instead they had merely continued through the building and on into the street, ever seeking their prey.

It had only taken Evelyn a single day to bring the museum back to order, for in the four days she had been gone, the rest of the workers had done their best. All that was needed was some authority, which she had been all too willing to provide.

Rick had spent most of the past three weeks just watching her. He fetched books she needed and artifacts and her glasses and anything else she needed. He tried to anticipate her wants and brought her juice when he thought she might be thirsty, or turned on another lamp if it seemed like it was getting too dark inside to read. 

But mostly he just stayed out of her way. And Evelyn seemed to appreciate this. From time to time she would smile at him, and he would feel his heart stagger in his chest. Sometimes he grinned his goofy grin then, and sometimes he managed to control it. He was aware that things were slowly changing between them, but he was powerless to say exactly how, or to explain what that change was.

All he knew was that tonight he had made the final realization: he was in love with Evelyn Carnahan.

She had looked up at him over a display case, and the way the light had shone in her brown eyes, the way her collar had exposed the softness of her throat, the way her lips had curved into that smile she reserved just for him… It had all come together and he had just swayed in shock, stunned as the truth finally revealed itself.

In love. Himself.

Incredible.

He pushed himself off the floor, reeling slightly to one side. The grin was back. He was in love.

Damn if it didn't feel good.

****

As irrational as it was, he somehow expected his revelation to change things between them. So it was a bit surprising when nothing different happened the next day. Evelyn did not melt into his arms, violins did not play, and they did not fall into bed. 

Chagrined at his own insanity, Rick scolded himself and went about helping Evelyn shelve books. Of course she did not know what he was thinking - how could she?

By mid-afternoon, he had discovered the delight of having his secret knowledge. He watched her, hiding a smile. Just being around her was good; being with her and knowing that he loved her was simply amazing.

At the end of the day, she closed up the museum and they gathered in the back courtyard. Jonathan sat on a sarcophagus as though it was a chaise longue, and Evelyn walked about, laying out plans for the following day's work; Rick was exhausted just listening to her.

"…and I must…Oh. O'Connell, could you get me that scroll, the one I was working on this morning?" She gave him a brief, harried smile and Rick immediately forgave her for being ordered about like a serving boy. 

He wandered through the empty library, at last finding the scroll where she had left it, atop a bookshelf at the end of the room. Holding it carefully - she had scolded him before for his lack of respect for these ancient artifacts - he headed toward the courtyard again.

Outside, Evelyn's chatter suddenly broke off. "Oh," she said. "Hello again."

"Oh, it's you," he heard Jonathan say.

Curious, and yes, a little worried, Rick hurried forward. He could not explain the sudden rush of protectiveness that came over him when he thought of Evelyn facing a stranger. What if something happened to her?

He walked out of the library. "Visitors?"

The man at the far end of the courtyard nodded to see him. "O'Connell."

Rick laid the scroll down, uncertain whether his worry had just been justified or not. He doubted the Med-jai was here for a social call. "What's the occasion?"

Ardeth Bay got right to the point. "I need to speak to you. I have chosen a new curator for the museum. He is-"

And all hell broke loose.

"Now hold on there!" Evelyn cried. "You can't just come in here and replace me…"

"If you knew what my sister has done for this place…"

"…just because I'm a woman…"

"…you better think twice about that…"

"…will not stand for this…"

"…won't let anyone…"

"Hold on a minute!" Rick held up his hands and the two Carnahans fell silent. They were missing the point, he thought. He lowered his hands and looked narrowly at Ardeth Bay. "What do you mean, _you_ have chosen?"

The Med-jai just gazed at him with that unreadable expression.

Rick groaned to himself. Wouldn't you know it?

In a very small voice, Evelyn said, "Oh."

It was, of course, Jonathan who brought things out into the open. "Are you telling us that you're the leader of the Med-jai?"

"Yes," Ardeth Bay said simply.

"Awfully young, aren't you?" Jonathan asked.

Rick gave Jonathan a hard look, one designed to shut the man up, and for a wonder, it worked. They might, after all, be in some serious trouble and not even know it. From his time with the Legion, he had learned a little about some of the desert tribes, the Tuareg and the Bedouin. He knew honor was very important to them.

He looked at Ardeth Bay and supposed he was probably the first person to ever manhandle the Med-jai and live to tell it. And it was for certain that no one had ever lit a match off the warrior's face before.

"I think what Jonathan means to say," he said, striving desperately for what little tact he possessed, "is that we're kinda surprised. None of us knew."

"Would it have made a difference?" asked the Med-jai.

Rick thought about this. "No."

A ghost of a smile lightened Ardeth's naturally stern expression. Then he looked at Evelyn. "I am sorry if you are displeased with my decision. But the curator of the museum has always been a Med-jai."

Rick remembered the way the curator had sacrificed himself for them all – then had to amend that. He had not done it for _them_. He had done it for Ardeth Bay, his leader. The man had been arrogant and a bit cold; Rick hadn't liked him much on their short acquaintance. But he had done a lot here at the museum, work that Evelyn was sustaining through her own blend of persistence and skill. Although Rick understood the reason for the tradition of the curator being a Med-jai, he couldn't stand aside and watch all of Evelyn's hard work be for nothing.

"What about everything she's already done?" he asked, earning him a grateful look from Evelyn. "She's put a lot of time and effort into this place. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I am sorry," Ardeth repeated, not sounding as though he really meant it. "But she is not a Med-jai."

"Why does that matter? She's been there! She knows more about Hamunaptra and Imhotep than any of the Med-jai. Well," he conceded, "except maybe for you."

Ardeth's expression did not change, but Rick had the distinct impression that the man was irritated. Probably nobody ever argued with him, either. "I appreciate Evelyn's experience," he said, trying a different tactic now. "But we are sworn to this task. This is our duty. We cannot give it to another, even if that person takes it willingly."

"Hamunaptra's buried," Rick said. "Seems to me your task is done, buddy." As soon as the word left his mouth, he mentally cringed, but it was too late. It was already out there and he could not take it back.

Evidently the mocking sarcasm usually inherent in the word was lost on Ardeth. "My friend, our task will never be done."

Taken aback by the Med-jai's response, and a bit ashamed of himself, Rick said nothing to this.

"But O'Connell killed him," Jonathan said.

"No," Ardeth Bay said. "He is undead. He cannot be truly killed."

"But the Book," Jonathan tried. "It's buried at Hamunaptra. No one can get to it now."

"Sooner or later someone will try to dig up Hamunaptra," Evelyn said. "I swear I will stop them."

"Like the curator was able to stop you?" Ardeth asked, not unkindly.

Evelyn flushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink that contrasted with her tan. Staring at that rosy color, Rick felt his heart miss a beat. He would do anything to get her this job. He would do whatever it took to get her what she wanted, to make her happy. 

Now he turned to face Ardeth. "Why don't you just let her have the job?" he said. "You might as well. We're not going to give up."

"Yeah," Jonathan echoed.

The Med-jai chieftain glared at him for a moment, then nodded curtly. "Very well. We shall see." He looked at Evelyn. "The museum is yours." He inclined his chin in a gesture of farewell, then was gone.

Gone, but only temporarily. Rick knew they were fooling themselves if they thought they had seen the last of the Med-jai.

****

Life, as it was wont to do, went on.

Rick sold one of the gold trinkets taken from Hamunaptra and lived comfortably off the proceeds. Jonathan and Evelyn, he had learned, were quite well off financially, having come into large trust funds at age twenty-one. There was a house back in London and plenty of money. Anyone else might have wondered why Evelyn even bothered to work at all, when she clearly did not have to.

Rick did not wonder. He knew. He understood Evelyn now. It was hard to believe that he had once said, _I get your parents. And I get him. But what are_ you _doing here?_

She continued to work hard, and he helped however he could. In the evenings they sat together under the stars and talked. They shared stories of their lives, taking time to learn about each other. Rick was patient about this - he figured any time spent with Evelyn Carnahan was time well spent. 

Even if he wasn't kissing her all the time, as he so badly wanted to do.

Only as they said their farewells for the night did he get to kiss her. Then she would stand slightly on tiptoe to reach his mouth, and balance herself with one hand on his arm. Long after he had dropped into bed for the night he could still feel a tingling sensation on his skin where her hand had burned him through his shirt.

And those kisses! He lay awake for hours, tormenting himself with the memories. She was unschooled, but shyly eager. He loved tasting her, drinking her in. 

He wanted more, of course. But Rick O'Connell, normally the most impatient of men, found he was willing to wait forever, if at the end of that time he was awarded Evelyn Carnahan.

****

Unsurprisingly, given his habits, it was Jonathan who first heard the news. He staggered into the museum one morning, obviously hungover. "Oh, Evy. I think you should know something."

"What is it now, Jonathan?" Evelyn had infinite patience when it came to her brother, despite the irritation that so often entered her voice when talking to him. It was one of the things Rick loved about her.

"There were some chaps at the bar last night," Jonathan said. "They were talking about going on a dig." He paused. "To Hamunaptra."

"Hamunaptra!" Evelyn's eyes widened.

"Those guys must not be up-to-date on current events," Rick said. "Hamunaptra no longer exists."

"That's what I tried to tell them!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Jonathan!"

The Englishman winced, as much from the sharpness of her cry as the realization that he had somehow screwed up again. Rick almost felt sorry for him.

"You told them about Hamunaptra?" Evelyn demanded.

"Only that it had sunk beneath the sands," Jonathan protested. "I was trying to do you a favor!"

"And they didn't ask how you knew this?" Rick asked.

"Well…" Jonathan hedged.

Rick rolled his eyes. Trust Jonathan to open his big mouth and get them into some trouble.

"They know you were there?" Evelyn sounded furious. Her color was high and her eyes flashed. 

"I don't think they believed me, though," Jonathan said hopefully. 

"Jonathan, you should know better than to say things like that to total strangers." Rick half-expected her to order her wayward brother to go to his room.

"Well, clearly I don't," Jonathan said, and had the nerve to sound almost cheerful about it.

Exasperated, Evelyn turned away. 

Rick felt compelled to make an effort on her behalf. He cleared his throat. "Maybe you shouldn't be allowed to talk to anyone anymore."

Yet for once his chivalry backfired. "Ooh, would you two take this somewhere else?" Evelyn snapped. "I have work to be doing, you know."

Stung, blaming Jonathan for his fall from Evelyn's good graces, Rick heaved himself out of the chair he had been lounging in. "Sure. Fine." He walked out of her office, casting a stern glare at Jonathan.

Carnahan was as unaffected by his displeasure as by Evelyn's. "Right. I'll see you tonight then." He sauntered off.

Disgruntled, Rick followed.

****

Three days later Jonathan announced that he had been approached by the men in the bar. They wanted him to guide them to Hamunaptra and were willing to pay handsomely for his services. 

Knowing her brother's penchant for wild escapades and his love of money, Evelyn gave him a piercing look. "You told them no, didn't you, Jonathan?"

"Of course I did, old mum!" Jonathan flapped a hand at her. "I may be a fool, but I'm not crazy. You won't ever see _me_ back at Hamunaptra."

Rick was only marginally reassured by this. He thought Jonathan sounded far too hale and hearty. "What did you say when they upped their offer?"

"Oh. Well." Jonathan looked at him with vague alarm. "How did you know they did that?"

"I didn't," Rick said sourly. "But isn't that what guys like that always do?"

"I'll have you know I still said no," Jonathan said, lifting his chin defiantly. "I told you. Nothing will ever get me back at Hamunaptra."

"Thank God," Evelyn said. "Jonathan, you really must be more careful who you talk to."

"Yes, yes." Jonathan stood up impatiently. "I'm off, then." He ambled toward the door.

"Watch your back!" Rick called. "These guys might not want to take no for an answer."

But Jonathan was already gone.

He turned and looked at Evelyn, who was frowning at him. "What?"

"Do you really think they'd…just _kidnap_ Jonathan?" she asked worriedly.

He wished he could take the words back, and cursed himself for being such an idiot. "Nah," he said. "I was just trying to scare him. I'm sure he'll be fine."

****

That evening they sat in the rear courtyard, sipping chilled wine. Rick was not much of a wine drinker, and he would never let any of his cronies see him like this, but he had nothing against sitting here with Evelyn. The night was cool and heavy with the scent of jasmine. Between them, they had almost demolished a plate of bread and mangoes. His fingers were sticky with fruit juice and he felt a bit giddy, as though there was magic in the evening breeze. 

They sat on the low stone wall marking the edge of the courtyard. Beyond, in the street, a horse trotted past, and further away, someone was singing an off-key serenade. A car engine swelled as it approached. It had been six weeks since the events at Hamunaptra. 

He took his courage in hand. "Evelyn." His voice came out funny, and he cleared his throat and tried again. "Evelyn."

She had been sitting with her head tipped back, gazing up at the stars. Now she looked at him, her lips still curved in a faint smile. "Yes?"

He was rendered speechless by her beauty. He had never before told a woman he loved her. He didn't know how to begin. "Evelyn, I—"

In the street, the approaching car drew right up to the building, the headlights splashing them with white light. Behind this one were three more cars, each one coming as fast as the first.

Rick jumped to his feet, one hand shading his eyes against the glare from the headlights. He watched a figure vault from the car.

The other three cars rocked to a stop and men poured out onto the street. They were all armed, and they did not look like they were here to check out a book from the library.

Rick grabbed Evelyn's arm and hauled her to her feet. "Come on!" He began running for the entrance to the library.

"Evy" The voice of the first figure was familiar; it was Jonathan Carnahan. As he stared in shock, the Englishman jumped the stone wall and burst into the courtyard. "Run, Evy!"

"What's going on?" Rick shouted.

The first gunshots split the night. Stone chips flew from the floor of the courtyard as the bullets came terribly near. Rick dragged Evelyn behind the nearest sarcophagus and pulled his gun. 

"Jonathan!" Evelyn yanked her arm free. "Where's Jonathan?"

"Get inside!" He pushed her behind him. "When I cover you, run for the library. Shut the doors and don't open them for anyone."

"I will not—" Evelyn started.

Rick rose onto his knees and began firing over the lid of the sarcophagus. There were maybe sixteen men in the courtyard, all advancing slowly toward the building. He could not see any sign of Jonathan Carnahan. 

The men dived for cover when he began firing, yet continued to shoot back. He ducked behind the cover of the sarcophagus. "I thought I told you to get inside!"

"Don't you order me around, O'Connell!" Evelyn seized his other gun and cocked it, her lower lip caught in her teeth.

The courtyard went silent. 

Rick took a deep breath and was about to pop back up to resume firing when Jonathan shouted out. "Evy!" 

"Oh, no." He gave Evelyn a fierce glare. "Stay down!" Slowly he peered out over the sarcophagus.

They had Jonathan. One man held the slight Englishman in a tight grip, one arm twisted up behind him, a pistol aimed at Jonathan's temple. His blue eyes bulged, and begged Rick to save him.

"Let him go!" Rick shouted.

"I am afraid not," said another man. He smiled coldly. "We require his services."

"Hamunaptra's buried," he yelled. "You can't get anything out of it."

"We shall see," said the man. "There are many stories about Hamunaptra. I choose not to believe anything unless I can see it for myself." He gave that glacial smile again. "As I can see your friend here has truly been to the City of the Dead."

"I haven't, I haven't!" Jonathan cried. "It was all a lie, I'm telling you!" He broke off and groaned as the man holding him captive twisted his wrist harder. "O'Connell!"

"We will be going now," said the leader of the group. He sketched a salute with his pistol. 

Beside him, Evelyn sprang up, and Rick bit back a silent groan. "Stop right there!"

The leader snorted laughter. "Put it away, my dear, before one of us has an accident." The guns of his men were trained on her and Rick with equal disbursement.

"You heard him!" snapped another man. "Drop your weapons!"

"Drop your weapons," repeated the leader. "Or he dies." He smiled thinly. "I can always find a new guide. Perhaps even one of you."

Jonathan's eyes begged him not to do it. Evelyn would never do it. But Rick could see no choice. There were just too many of them. Even if he could take them all out, one of them would surely fire at Jonathan. Or Evelyn. He could not take that risk; he would never forgive himself if he was responsible for hurting one of them.

Slowly he began lowering his gun to the lid of the sarcophagus. The leader watched him with gimlet eyes, and smiled when Rick let go of the weapon altogether. Evelyn was slower to comply and this seemed to amuse the man.

The men began to leave the courtyard, backing away, their guns still trained on Rick and Evelyn; the man holding Jonathan began dragging the Englishman backward. The gun at his temple did not waver. 

"O'Connell! Evy!" Jonathan struggled futilely in the man's grip.

"Rick, do something," Evelyn urged in a low voice.

"I'm thinking," he muttered. "I'm thinking."

Jonathan stared at him. Evelyn stared at him. The leader of the men watched him coolly. Rick felt panic begin to gnaw at him. 

A single gunshot split the night. The man holding Jonathan arched backward and cried out, pain and surprise contorting his face. He let go of his captive and Jonathan immediately ducked and began scrambling forward.

Another shot, and now a second man fell. The shots were coming from behind him, Rick realized, between him and the museum. He whipped around and saw a shadowy figure standing before the doors leading to the library. Fire bloomed at the end of the rifle a third time, and another man fell.

They had been taken by surprise, this gang, but now they opened fire. Jonathan, caught in the middle, yelped in fright and began to run faster. 

Rick snatched his gun and began shooting. Chips of stone flew from a bullet striking the lid of the sarcophagus and he felt something sting his cheek. He was dimly aware that Evelyn was beside him, firing the other gun.

"Get back!" a voice shouted. It belonged to the man firing the rifle, and Rick smiled grimly as he recognized it.

Jonathan streaked past them, panting in terror. Rick grabbed Evelyn's arm and began running with her toward the library. 

Their attackers pursued, their faces tight with grim anger. They were clearly unused to not getting their way.

Rick shoved Evelyn ahead of him and twisted around so he was running backward, still firing at the men. He would be out of bullets soon, and he meant to make every shot count. Behind him, the rifle had fallen silent.

At the doors, he ran out of ammunition. He turned around and nearly tripped and fell over his own feet. A hand on his shoulder steadied him and he looked up gratefully at the leader of the Med-jai. "What are you doing here?"

Something struck him in the back of the leg, something hot and immediate. Rick shouted and went down to one knee. It felt as though someone had struck him with a hammer, sending fiery pain up and down his left leg. 

"Rick!" Evelyn, who was inside, turned around and began to run back out.

"Get back!" ordered Ardeth Bay. He reached down and yanked Rick to his feet.

They staggered the last few steps. The stone of the building flashed past and Rick frowned – had some of those stones always been red? – and then they were inside the library. Jonathan and Evelyn rushed up to shut the doors and throw the key.

Rick stumbled and went down again. "Dammit!" His lower leg felt heavy, full to bursting with pain. His trousers were already soaked with blood. 

"Who are they?" Ardeth demanded.

Evelyn ignored him, pushing past the Med-jai to reach Rick. Her face was white and strained. "Rick."

He was going to pass out; he could already hear the roaring in his ears. Cursing his weakness, he tried to smile reassuringly at her. 

From the look on her face – the last thing he saw before he fainted – he didn't succeed  
.  
****

He regained consciousness with a shocked indrawn breath. He was halfway up before his brain caught up with his body, and at the pain that bellowed through his leg, he fell back and let out a hoarse cry.

He had never been shot before. He had never imagined it might hurt this much.

"Rick." Evelyn's face swam into focus over him, then she looked up at someone he could not see. "He's awake."

He took a deep breath and managed to sit up all the way this time. "Wha--?"

He had not been unconscious for long, he realized instantly; only a few minutes at most. The men outside were still yelling in anger, but even as he sat there, the shouts tapered off and became silent. 

They were in the library, and he was on the floor. His leg was now bound tightly in black material, and the bleeding seemed to have slowed, although the wound still hurt like hell. Evelyn and Ardeth Bay were kneeling beside him. "Where's Jonathan?"

"I'm here," Evelyn's brother said. He was standing beside the leftmost set of double doors leading from the library to the museum. Both sets of the heavy wooden doors were now pulled shut and locked. 

"So we're just gonna hide in here?" he croaked.

Evelyn's eyes sparked. "Have you got a better idea?"

"Nope," he groaned. "Sounds good to me."

"They seek a guide to Hamunaptra," Ardeth Bay said. "Is that the only thing they seek?"

"How should I know?" Rick grumbled. Looking at the blood on the floor made him feel ill. "Ask Jonathan." He peered blearily at the Med-jai. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"When word reached us of the planned expedition, I came to Cairo. I have kept watch over the Museum for several days now," Ardeth said.

Rick grimaced. "Didn't trust us, huh? I guess I can't blame you."

Ardeth said nothing to this, which was answer enough, really.

From inside the museum, they heard the faint sound of breaking glass. Evelyn's eyes widened with dismay.

"Do you have other weapons?" Ardeth asked.

"Only my guns," Rick said in disgust. "And they're empty." He thought wistfully of the gunnysack full of guns and ammunition that he had lost in Hamunaptra. Why had he never rebuilt that private arsenal? Why had he never thought he might need it again? But he supposed he knew why. Imhotep was dead and Hamunaptra was buried beneath the sand. He had never imagined he might need all those weapons here in the peace of the Museum of Antiquities because…well, why should he?

The Med-jai chieftain nodded and stood. He drew his scimitar. "We cannot stay here. They will trap us inside."

"He can't walk!" Evelyn snapped.

"Evy!" Jonathan looked up sharply. A split second later something heavy thudded against the closed doors. "They're barricading us in!"

"Real original, aren't they?" Rick muttered. He reached up a hand, waiting for someone to help pull him to his feet. He wasn't at all sure he could walk or go anywhere under his own power, but he had to try.

"Check outside," Ardeth ordered. "See if they have left anyone in the courtyard."

Evelyn crept over to the doors leading outside. Jonathan remained where he was, a few paces inside the library, wringing his hands.

Rick waggled his hand. "Hello!"

Without looking at him, Ardeth pulled him to his feet. He staggered, as did Ardeth, then the Med-jai caught him, pushing him slightly so he stood erect with his weight on his uninjured leg. Rick waited, testing this new position, praying he would not faint again and disgrace himself in front of Evelyn. 

"Someone's out there," Evelyn said. "Six of them."

"We cannot stay here. We must break through the barricade." Ardeth began stalking toward the doors. As he passed, Jonathan jumped aside.

Rick watched this with some amusement. He was not unaware that he had lost control of this situation, but for some reason he was not bothered by this. Being in charge was not always fun or enviable.

Evelyn reached his side. "Are you all right?" she asked softly. She touched his arm lightly, as though afraid he would break at the smallest of touches. Concern widened her deep brown eyes. 

He bit back a groan at that touch. He wanted to throw his arms around her and protect her from the ugliness outside, to keep her safe from all those who might hurt her. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and let her hold him and comfort him.

Ardeth tried to open the doors and failed. With increasing force, he tried again and again, at last throwing himself at the thick wood, crashing into it with his shoulder. He turned, and there was urgency in his eyes, unusual for one so stoic. "They have set the building on fire. We must leave this room!"

Rick jerked his head toward the courtyard. "Wouldn't we be better off trying our luck against those guys?"

"They will gun you down the moment you set foot outside." The Med-jai chieftain did not group himself with them, Rick noticed. He stared pointedly at Rick. "This is the only way out."

"Um, Evy?" Jonathan sounded uncertain.

With Evelyn's arm about his waist, he was able to limp through the library toward the museum. Of necessity, she was close, her body pressed to his; he could feel the heat of her through her plain skirt and blouse. It was nice, and he silently cursed the fact that he couldn't really enjoy it.

She let go of him as he neared the doors, and he swayed for a moment, unsure of himself. He was aware of her eyes on him, worried and sympathetic, and he swallowed hard, bringing his wayward body back under control. "All right. Let's do this together."

Ardeth nodded curtly. They sized each other up, then ran at the doors, striking them simultaneously with their left shoulders. The doors bowed out slightly, then settled back into place. "Damn!" Rick hissed. The shock of the collision had sent surprising pain roaring through his leg, and he wasn't sure if he could continue to do this for much longer.

"Again," Ardeth commanded. They charged the doors a second time, with no success.

"Look." Evelyn's voice trembled slightly, and Rick almost didn't hear her. It wasn't until Ardeth stepped back and looked down that he followed the direction of her pointing finger and saw.

Smoke was curling under the doors.

He groaned. "Come on!" Fear gave him new strength, and some of the pain was banished under a sudden upsurge of energy. They had to get out of the library, or they would all die a horrible death in here. 

"Maybe I should just give myself up to them," Jonathan said in a low voice, obviously hoping no one would hear.

"They would still kill everyone else," Ardeth Bay said implacably. He charged at the doors.

It was probably only Rick's imagination, but the door felt hotter than before, as though the fire in the museum was already lurking just outside, waiting to devour them. He and Ardeth struck the heavy wood at the same moment, and to his surprise, he heard the doors splinter in their frame.

"Again!" he shouted. "Come on!" Yelling at the top of his lungs, he threw himself at the door.

With a loud crack, the doors gave way. They opened into the museum, but were abruptly stopped after only a few inches. Carried ahead by his momentum, Rick staggered forward and collided with a wooden bench that had been propped up against the doors. Beside him, Ardeth fell atop the bench with a muffled sound of surprised hurt. 

Rick wrenched himself off the bench and reeled back a step. He looked out into the museum and his eyes widened.

An inferno was engulfing the museum. The rooms were dark and shadowed, for Evelyn had turned off the lights when she had closed the building down for the day. The absence of artificial light made the lurid orange glow of the fire all the more horrible. Flames licked eagerly along the walls and crept across the ceiling, racing for the library. The museum was thick with smoke, and he began to cough, his eyes streaming.

A hand touched his back, and then Evelyn shoved her way past him. She began pushing at the wooden bench, which was easily twice as long as the double doors. In a former life it had sat against one wall of the museum's main chamber, a place for the weary to sit and rest while their more energetic companions continued to explore the wonders contained within. Rick himself had sat upon it on occasion, watching Evelyn as she worked. It was dark and heavy and right now it was blocking their way out, preventing them from opening the doors any further and making their escape.

"Just climb over it!" snapped Ardeth Bay. He reached out and his hand touched Evelyn's shoulder, almost pushing her at the bench. 

"Hurry, Evy!" Jonathan danced from one foot to the other behind them, looking worriedly at the rapidly growing fire.

Evelyn climbed over the bench, her normally graceful movements made awkward by the slim cut of her skirt, and slithered over the back onto the seat. Once on the other side, she stood and held out a hand. "Come on, Rick."

Rick turned to Jonathan. "You go next."

Jonathan needed no urging. He pushed his way out of the gap between the doors and tumbled over the bench to join his sister.

Without waiting for an invitation, Rick launched himself at the bench. He had a terrible moment when he thought his leg would simply refuse to work, and he wouldn't be able to drag it over the top of the bench, then it thumped down onto the seat. Brilliant pain bolted up his leg and he threw back his head and howled, not caring in the slightest that Evelyn was standing right there.

He was still trying to stand and regain his dignity when Ardeth came to stand beside him. "This way." 

Jonathan followed the Med-jai immediately. Rick bravely tried, but his leg buckled and he drew his breath in through his teeth in a hiss of pain. "Rick?" Evelyn's arm tightened about him, and his heart stuttered in his chest. Jaws clenched tightly, he began walking.

He could feel the heat from the fire now, and was dimly glad that Evelyn was on his right as they walked through the display room, and that his body shielded her from the worst of the heat. Some of the flames were very close, and the smoke was thick and strangling. Deep coughs tore at his chest, and he staggered.

"Follow me," said Ardeth Bay. He led them through the museum. They kept close to the wall, as far from the growing fire as they could get, walking bent over so to breathe the purer air near the floor. 

With a sinking heart, Rick guessed their destination.

"Where are we going?" Evelyn asked.

Ardeth stopped at the stairs, where only six weeks ago they had raced upstairs so Evelyn could translate the inscription on the stone tablet. Six weeks since they had looked down on a crowd of mesmerized slaves to Imhotep. Only instead of going up, Ardeth started down the stairs.

Rick groaned. "You have got to be joking."

Ardeth Bay looked up at him, glanced down at his leg, then met his eyes again. "Can you make it?"

Put on the spot, Evelyn's arm still largely responsible for keeping him upright, Rick flushed. "Yeah. Sure." He would have died before admitting to any weakness in front of Evelyn Carnahan, especially after that demeaning display on the bench.

"We must hurry," Ardeth said. "Some of those displays are preserved in the liquid that burns." He said something incomprehensible in Arabic. "I do not know the word."

"Formaldehyde," Evelyn said heavily. "He's right." She began tugging Rick toward the stairs.

Jonathan scooted past them and went to stand on the riser beside Ardeth. "Come on, Evy. Hurry!"

Going down the stairs was murder. Rick clenched his teeth and leaned on Evelyn as much as he dared. He was determined to endure silently and stoically, as a true man should; he would not give voice to his hurt again.

He had only gone down three of the steps when a display behind them exploded as the flames reached the items preserved in the flammable formaldehyde. An angry roar filled the main room and a gout of flame rose high. Rick risked a glance over his shoulder and was momentarily transfixed by the sight of the museum going up in flames. All of Evelyn's hard work, and that of the Med-jai curators before her – all destroyed in mere minutes.

They reached the landing and continued down. There was little smoke here and they were able to breathe easier. "Where are you taking us?" Evelyn demanded. "There's nothing down here but storerooms."

Ardeth said nothing to this.

Jonathan, who was only a step behind the Med-jai, reached out and grabbed Ardeth's shoulder. "I say," he began, "where—"

Ardeth twisted free of Jonathan's grip. "There is an exit beneath the museum."

"No, there isn't," Evelyn protested. "I have been over every inch of this museum. If there was a secret way out I would know about it."

"I don't know," Rick said quietly. "He seems awfully sure of himself." Then he winced, wishing he could take back the words, so she would not think he doubted her.

"But I would know it," Evelyn said, so softly only the two of them could hear. But now she sounded uncertain, as though she, too, doubted herself.

At the bottom of the stairs was a long, narrow hall. Doors led off this at various intervals, leading to storerooms and workrooms and closets and offices. Most of these were crammed with artifacts, while other rooms contained nothing but forgeries. Still others held objects awaiting repair, or appraisal, or auction, or authentication. Dusty statues stood between some of the doors, and a few of these had been used as makeshift coat racks or umbrella stands. At the far end of the hall was a large box of rotting papyrus scrolls patiently waiting for someone to decipher their contents before they fell apart altogether. This was Evelyn's domain, where only she was allowed, and even Rick, who had followed her throughout the last six weeks, felt a bit uncomfortable among all the accoutrements of Evelyn's work.

Ardeth walked confidently down the hall, sword still in hand. He went unerringly past closets and storerooms, moving without hesitation. It was patently obvious that the Med-jai knew where he was going.

"Come here often?" Rick asked.

Ardeth looked at him sharply, then seemed to realize he was only teasing, and visibly relaxed. "I have been here before, yes."

Jonathan cast a worried glance up to the ceiling. "Ah, shouldn't we be hurrying?"

Ardeth stopped and turned to face them. The indecipherable tattoos on his face made him appear stern and forbidding. Not for the first time, Rick was grateful that not all the Med-jai were as efficient as their leader; if they were, he and his companions would have all died six weeks ago on the boat to Hamunaptra. Perhaps the rest of the tribe was bumbling and incompetent, but this man in front of him was a killer.

"Until now, only the Med-jai have known of this," Ardeth Bay said. He did not seem pleased at having to share his secret.

"Yes, yes." Jonathan threw another uneasy glance at the ceiling. "And we're very grateful you're telling us."

The look Ardeth Bay gave him would have melted stone. Jonathan flinched back, hands coming up slightly. "Really," he protested. "We are."

Ardeth sighed slightly, turned and in one elegant move, thrust the blade of his sword into the wall.

Evelyn gasped and even Rick was stunned. Then he realized the sword had not actually penetrated the stone, but had slid between two of the large blocks making up the wall. "Stand back," Ardeth ordered. Slowly he began to turn the sword, using the blade as a lever. With only the strength of his wrists, he forced the stone block to slide back and in, halfway disappearing into the wall itself. Immediately one of the tiles in the floor began to slide back with the same speed as the block in the wall, revealing a square gap at their feet.

Rick just stared. He found it hard to believe he had once shot a similar sword out of Ardeth's hands. Clearly he had gotten very lucky with that shot.

"It leads to the sewers," Ardeth said. He looked at Rick. "Where we have been before."

"Wonderful," Jonathan breathed.

Rick smirked. "After you."

Ardeth shook his head. "I cannot. The door can only be opened and closed from this side."

"But you can't—" Evelyn protested.

"I will follow you," the Med-jai said, looking vaguely amused by her sudden outburst of concern.

"Right." Jonathan pushed forward. "Are there stairs or anything?"

"No. Just drop."

"Right," Jonathan repeated. He peered down the hole, which was just large enough that maybe two people could squeeze through together. He sat and dangled his legs over the edge. "When you say, 'Just drop,' what kind of landing are we talking about? What's beneath us?"

Evelyn let go of Rick, planted both hands on Jonathan's shoulder blades, and pushed. With a loud scream, Jonathan dropped out of sight.

"Thank you," Ardeth Bay said gravely. The stone in the wall wanted to return back to its original position, and the tile in the floor could be seen trying to peek out. The Med-jai's hands were beginning to shake with the strain of holding his sword steady and keeping the stone in place.

Rick limped over to the gap in the floor. He sat down gingerly. "See you on the other side." He tucked his elbows in, scooted forward, and dropped.

As he fell he twisted his body so he would land on his left side. He almost didn't have time. The drop was short and he landed on a mound of cool sand. Reflexively he rolled away, spitting out grains of sand from where he had somehow inhaled them. Pain flared in his leg and he gritted his teeth – feeling sand grind between his molars – to keep from crying out.

"O'Connell." Jonathan helped him up. As he was standing, Evelyn fell through the gap. A scant second later, Ardeth dropped neatly to the sand in a crouch, unlike the ungainly sprawl the rest of them had made. The tile in the floor above slid back into its original position, and the passageway went dark.

"Now what?" Jonathan asked.

Rick blinked and looked around, trying to peer through the near-total darkness. Sand crunched beneath his feet and he could hear the others and sense the closeness of the walls, but that was all. He could see nothing.

"Rick?"

"Over here," he said.

Evelyn fumbled her way over to him and her arm slipped back around his waist. It felt right, and here in the safety of the dark, he allowed himself an idiotic grin. "I wasn't going to leave you," she said, and her voice was very serious.

He tried to think of something calm and reassuring to say, something that spoke of promises and hopes and time spent together. 

Still grinning like a fool, he began to stumble forward. "Okay."

****

There was a rustle of fabric, then a small orange flame appeared in the darkness. Jonathan held the lighter high, peering through the gloom. "Everyone all right?"

"Hey," Rick said. "I didn't know you smoked."

"Oh." Jonathan shrugged off the comment. "I don't. Think it's a dirty habit, actually. I only carry it for the ladies." He did not look at Evelyn as he said this.

Evelyn looked around, distinctly uneasy. "I don't care why you have it, Jonathan. I'm just glad you do."

The walls of the tunnel were of dark stone. Sand was heaped in little drifts against the base of the walls and the ceiling appeared to slope downward, further away; the flickering glow cast by Jonathan's lighter made it hard to tell.

"Should we sally forth?" asked Jonathan.

"Yes," Evelyn said, and a small shiver ran through her. Rick felt it, and had the sudden insane urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her breathless.

Jonathan took a step forward, then stopped and turned to Ardeth. "Ah, maybe you should lead the way."

The Med-jai chieftain walked up to Jonathan, but shook his head at the offer of the lighter. "Hold onto that," he said. "It is a long walk to make in the dark."

"Oh, so you've, ah, you've done this before," Jonathan said, and it wasn't really a question.

"I have," Ardeth confirmed.

They began walking down the passageway. They could walk comfortably side by side, for which Rick was grateful. A few steps ahead Jonathan and Ardeth walked together. They were a strange sight, the tall Med-jai and the lanky Englishman, and Rick smiled to see it. He would have bet all his treasure from Hamunaptra that Ardeth Bay had never expected to be in this situation.

"Ardeth Bay," he said musingly. "That's not an Arabic name, is it?"

Evelyn reached up with her free hand and squeezed his arm, making a quick shushing sound, but it was too late. 

The leader of the Med-jai half-turned, but did not stop walking. "No, it is not," he said, and did not elaborate.

Rick gave Evelyn a sardonic glance and rolled his eyes. Clearly their guide was not a conversationalist. He tried again. "So where will this take us?"

This question Ardeth was willing to answer. "To the sewers. From there we can re-enter the city at any point. I would suggest we get as far from the museum as possible before doing so."

"Makes sense," Rick agreed.

They walked for a while in silence. The sand beneath their feet was uneven and in some places his boots sank a little into the giving softness, and in others he could feel the hard stone of the floor under the sand. His leg was hurting badly, but the pain seemed to have reached its acme; at least it was not growing worse.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said, surprising them all. 

No one spoke. Rick looked down at her. "Sorry for what?"

"The museum is destroyed," she said. "And it's my fault. I insisted on being the curator, and now they've burnt it down."

He let his right arm go around her waist, relishing the closeness of their bodies. "It's not your fault," he said reassuringly.

"It is," Evelyn said.

"Tell her it's not her fault, would you?" Rick said to the two men in front of him.

Jonathan threw a strained glance over his shoulder, obviously unwilling to speak up. Ardeth Bay said, "If they meant to destroy the museum, no one person could have stopped them."

Rick blinked, then finally said, "There, you see? It's not your fault."

Ahead, Jonathan hunched his shoulders, waiting for someone to lay the blame at his feet. Rick, who might have done this very thing if it would not have hurt Evelyn, just looked at the man. He didn't know Jonathan Carnahan terribly well yet, but already he was beginning to realize that there were some things about the man that would never change: magically getting himself into tight situations was just one of them.

"You have actually done us a favor," Ardeth said. 

Evelyn frowned. "I have?"

"The museum contained too many things that pertained to Hamunaptra. It was dangerous. That is why the curator was always a Med-jai. Now we no longer have to extend it our protection."

"And can just return to the desert," Rick said sarcastically, as though this was such a welcome option.

"Yes," said Ardeth.

"Hold on there," Jonathan said. "If you didn't want the artifacts in the museum, why did you let them end up there in the first place?"

Ardeth gave him a long look. "If it had been up to me, none of them would ever have found their way here. But most have been here for many years." He hesitated. "A few had been given back to the City of the Dead, but some had remained here in the museum. Now no one shall ever have them."

"That was you?" Evelyn cried. "We thought common thieves took those items!"

Rick gave her a puzzled frown. "What?"

"Last year," she explained, "there was a break-in, in the middle of the night. Some artifacts were stolen. I thought one was from Hamunaptra, but couldn't be sure. The curator didn't seem too upset, which I thought was strange at the time." She trailed off.

"There was no break-in," Ardeth said stiffly. "The curator removed the objects himself and made you believe there had been a theft. The artifacts were given to a Med-jai who brought them out to the City, where they belong." He sounded vaguely insulted to hear his people accused of common thievery.

"Boy, you really take your job seriously," breathed Jonathan.

"You have seen why," Ardeth said.

"Could—" Evelyn swallowed hard. "Could he be raised again?"

"Yes," Ardeth said curtly. "If someone was to find the Book."

Rick scowled. "Then why don't you send some guys out there to get the Book and make sure that doesn't happen?"

"Hamunaptra is buried," said the Med-jai. "It will take more than our efforts to reach it now." He raised a hand and pointed. "The passageway ends here. We must go down."

Directly ahead, a dark stone wall loomed into sight. Jonathan lowered his hand, and the glow from the lighter revealed a circular opening in the floor. Cooler air rose from this, carrying a thick odor of sewage and runoff. Remembering the stench from his frantic escape from Imhotep's mob, Rick grimaced. "Here we go again."

****

The sewers were every bit as nasty as Rick remembered them being. Granted, last time his mind had been on others things – like how to save Evelyn -- but he still recalled the horrible smell, the way _things_ touched his boots as he walked, and the overall creepy sliminess of the tunnels.

Evelyn, who had been spared this disgusting little adventure the first time around, shuddered powerfully. "Oh, my God." They had told her that they had gone through the sewers to escape Imhotep's mob, but now for the first time she was realizing what that meant. 

They splashed through the muck. The glow from Jonathan's lighter was woefully inadequate, nor would it last much longer. The metal had to be growing hot, and it surely wouldn't be long before Jonathan could no longer bear to hold it. Then they would walk in complete darkness.

This was not a pleasant thought. To divert himself, Rick asked, "So, uh, now that our old buddy Imhotep is gone, did you guys, uh, celebrate, or something?"

Ardeth made a sound that could have been a snort of contempt or an unamused laugh. "The Creature is an eternal evil. The Med-jai will never stop watching and guarding."

"But he's gone," Rick said. "And the Book is buried. You said yourself nobody can get to it now."

"Yeah, you ought to relax a little," Jonathan put in. 

"I said the Med-jai could not reach the Book," said Ardeth. "I did not say nobody could." He stopped and turned around, glaring at Rick. "What will happen when some rich fool decides to unearth Hamunaptra? How long before trucks roll across the desert, carrying huge digging equipment and men? All of Cairo knows what happened out there. It is only a matter of time before others decide to follow in your footsteps."

This was the longest speech the Med-jai had made yet, and it had the effect of making Rick feel all of six years old. Small and grubby and good only for causing trouble. He had the sudden urge to hang his head in shame.

At his side, Evelyn bristled. "You can't blame that on us. It's not our fault if somebody tries to dig up the ruins of Hamunaptra." Her dark eyes reflected the small flame from Jonathan's lighter.

Ardeth Bay said nothing. Rick felt sorry for the Med-jai then. He knew Ardeth wanted to blame them, that it would make the chieftain's life easier to have someone like the Carnahans to blame for what had happened at Hamunaptra. But Ardeth could not do it. The things they had endured, the adventure they had shared, would not let him. He wondered suddenly if the Med-jai as a people blamed their leader for allowing the Creature to be raised. Had Ardeth, after riding away from them at Hamunaptra, encountered trouble among his own people?

With a muffled curse, Jonathan dropped the lighter. It fell into the sewage at their feet with a splash, and they were plunged into darkness.

Maybe it was the cover of that darkness that allowed to Rick to say what he did. "Those men on the boat. Did you know them well?"

"They were sent by the curator, not by me," Ardeth said. "But I knew them, yes. One of them had been the commander of his tribe, in his youth. Then he lost his hand in a battle and could no longer lead."

"Lost his hand?" He felt Evelyn's one-armed embrace tighten. "Did he have a hook for a hand?"

"He did."

Rick sighed. "Oh," Jonathan said.

"My men wished to kill you as you left Hamunaptra." Even in the dark, Rick knew the words were directed at him. "I stopped them."

"Why?" he asked. His heart beat a little faster as he remembered that of them all, Ardeth was the only one with a weapon.

"The Med-jai do whatever is necessary to protect Hamunaptra, and the Creature's resting place." Ardeth sighed, and now he sounded tired, a man cursed with a burden he could never lay down. "But it is never easy to kill another." 

"No," Rick agreed. He would never forget the time he had spent with the Legion, the pointless battles and killing. He was too young to have fought in the Great War, and although some of his friends had lied about their age in order to enlist, he had never felt the desire to do so. There was more than enough death in the world; why should he hurry up to go meet it?

"So I spared your life. I am glad I did so," Ardeth said. "The Med-jai, and I as their leader, owe you a debt we will never be able to repay."

Rick had no answer to this.

"Come. We must keep going." Although the darkness did not lift, they heard the sounds of Ardeth walking down the tunnel, just ahead of them.

****

They emerged from the sewers in an older part of Cairo. At this hour of the night, there was nobody around but the homeless beggars who made their makeshift beds in the alleys of these streets. An old man goggled at them as they climbed out of the sewer, rubbed his eyes, then lay down and went back to sleep.

They gathered together at the end of an alley that opened onto a square that in daytime was filled with camel merchants and men who promised to sell you anything, or anyone, if the price was right. After the darkness of the sewer, the moonlight seemed blinding, and Rick felt strangely exposed.

"The men who did this will not linger. But I would not advise returning to the museum," Ardeth said. He stood next to Jonathan, leaning against the building on their right, arms crossed. "Do you have somewhere else to go?"

"We'll be fine," Rick said. 

"And you have a doctor?"

"Yeah, sure." He kept his voice casual, but it was tough. Now that the adventure was almost over, the pain in his leg was starting to make itself known again, insisting that he pay attention to it. 

Evelyn had let go of him for the climb up to the street, yet she stood close to him, taking her promise not to leave him very seriously. "I'm sorry," she said. "For the museum. For everything."

Ardeth shook his head and stood up straight. "Do not apologize." He glanced around. "I must be going." He peered out into the square, then looked at Rick. "O'Connell." 

"I guess maybe we'll see you around," Rick said. 

"I do not come to Cairo often. Only when there is trouble."

"I thought I told you to stay out of trouble," Rick said.

To his surprise, Ardeth smiled, and the Med-jai actually looked his age then, rather than the stern warrior he normally appeared to be. "Exactly." He bowed and said something in Arabic. "Go with God, my friends." Then he turned and disappeared into the night.

"Well!" Jonathan made a show of relief. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Get out of this place, for starters," Rick said. "Then we can find a doctor and see what happened to the museum." He glared at the Englishman. "And I think you ought to stay out of bars for a little while."

"I'd agree with that," Jonathan said gravely. 

Rick was not mollified. He knew within a week – at most – Jonathan would be back in high spirits, strolling into bars throughout the city, sitting down at card games and ordering drinks in the old fashion, without a care in the world. It was a lifestyle he had no wish to emulate, nor did he envy it. As far as he was concerned, there were more important things in life.

Shaking his head slightly, he turned away, and frowned. "Hey."

"What?" Evelyn took a step toward him. "What's wrong?"

He pointed at the wall. "Look."

Jonathan stepped aside. "I didn't do anything."

"No," he said impatiently. "Look." On the wall beside Jonathan was a patch of dark color, which stood out starkly against the light stone of the building. He walked over to the wall, rubbed his fingers against the stone, and held them up. The tips were red. "Ardeth. He was wounded." 

"What?" Evelyn rushed over.

Rick looked out into the night, knowing the Med-jai was long gone by now. "Damn fool." He remembered now how he had seen blood on the wall of the museum as he had run inside, how he had puzzled over that crimson mark on the stone. "In the courtyard. Someone must have gotten off a lucky shot."

"What are we going to do?" Evelyn asked in consternation.

"Nothing," Rick said. Deliberately he wiped his fingers on his pants. "There's nothing we can do." He spared one last look out into the square, and silently thanked his new friend. Maybe one day they would even meet again, and he could say it in person.

He turned toward Evelyn, and she looked up at him. The moonlight shone in her eyes and on her hair, and turned her into an argent angel. He knew then that he would marry her, and love her for the rest of his life. He smiled. "Ready to go back?"

She nodded. "Are you going to be all right?"

He could not stop smiling. "Oh yeah. I'll be just fine."

*************

END


End file.
